Like a House on Fire
by Ellipsis Black
Summary: *COMPLETE* (D/H) Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Draco buys Harry. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.
1. The perks of being rich

****

Like a House on Fire: Chapter 1

By Ellipsis Black  
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Harry is one of the slaves for sale. Draco buys him. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, i just like to pretend they are.  
Warning: Nothing much.  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Notes: This is a rewrite of an older fic of mine, so don't be disturbed by any sense of déja vu.

****

*******************

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"About the Auction."

"The Slave Auction?"

"That's the one."

"No I haven't heard the news, tell me."

"_Someone _ has agreed to be sold!"

"Someone?"

"You know… him!"

"_Harry Potter??_"

"The one and only!"

"Oh my stars! Quick, help me count my savings. Maybe if we pool our money we'll be able to buy him!"

*****

__

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, could simply not believe he had agreed to this. The only reason he had was because Ginny had come wheedling to him, giving him the line about how it was all to raise money for Saint Mungo's. 

Damn her.

Here he was, standing on the Auction Block, in front of the whole school, while some Seventh Year read out his accomplishments, merits and attractions categorically. The poor sod who had been auctioned before him was now being lead away, looking mournful. 

Right near the front, his two best friends were standing together snickering. He had made Ron and Hermione promise to bid for him if someone awful like Mandy Brocklehurst put in a bid.

"I'll start the bidding at 10 sickles."

Immediately people began yelling.

"Fifteen sickles!"

"A galleon!"

"Two galleons!"

"Two galleons, Five Sickles!"

"Three Galleons!"

"Four Galleons, Ten sickles!" This last was the dreaded Mandy Brocklehurst.

Harry looked desperately at Hermione who hastily yelled out, "Four Galleons, Eleven Sickles!"

"Twenty Galleons!"

There was dead silence around the Great Hall as everyone looked for the bidder. Harry didn't need to look. He had recognised the voice. Sickly he searched the crowd for the expected face.

There he was. The smug, spoiled Slytherin brat with oily hair and an arrogant grin plastered on his face. He was going to be sold to Draco Malfoy, which had to be the last thing he had ever planned to do. 

Well, actually the last thing he had ever planned to do was perform 'My Aunt Millie is a Hippogriff' naked on a broomstick, but serving to Malfoy definitely came close. Their mutual loathing had become a constant in Harry's life over his six years at Hogwarts.

Harry didn't need to think hard to divine a reason for Draco's outrageously high bid. Obviously Draco was out to humiliate him.

Well, it was working.

"Twenty Galleons, going once!"

Harry looked desperately at his friends, but Hermione was avoiding his eye and Ron gave him a 'what can we do?' kind of look.

"Twenty Galleons, going twice!"

Dead silence.

"Twenty Galleons going three times!"

"SOLD! Harry Potter is sold to Draco Malfoy for Twenty Galleons! I remind you that the ownership is effective for twenty-four hours, starting midnight."

Harry stumbled numbly off the podium. He could see Draco pushing his way through the crowd. When he reached him, the blond boy smiled smugly.

"Midnight, Trophy Room," he drawled. "I'm looking forward to this!" then he paid over his twenty galleons and pushed his way back to the Slytherins.

"Next person up for Auction is Neville Longbottom! A studious and hardworking student, Neville enjoys Herbology and listening to Esmerelda Margarita, the enchanting songstress."

There was silence in the Great Hall. Everyone was staring at Harry.

Harry slunk into the Trophy Room at 12:01. He had begged Ron to come with him. After all, Draco hadn't said he needed to come alone.

Draco was already waiting for him, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry gulped and entered the room fully. Ron followed and stood beside Harry, looking fierce.

Draco stared intensely at Ron. 

"Leave, now." He commanded. 

"Not bloody likely," Ron snapped back. 

"Make him leave." This was directed at Harry.

Ron stared at Harry, who scowled.

"It was worth a try, Ron. I guess you had better leave."

"You heard the boy, Weasley. Scat, vamoose, begone!" with a flick of his wrist he sent Crabbe and Goyle on their way, and Ron reluctantly followed. 

"So," Draco whispered, stalking around the table. "You're mine… until Midnight tomorrow." 

Harry was silent for a long while, watching Draco pace. 

"What do you want me to do?" he finally snapped. "Follow you around like a puppy? Wear a sign around my neck saying 'Potter Sucks'?" 

Draco laughed. "All that will come, Potter. For now what I want is much more simple. Come here." 

Harry glared sullenly at the other boy as he did as commanded. Draco grabbed him by the upper arms and then leaned suddenly and pressed his lips to the other boy's. Harry jerked back in shock, breaking Draco's hold on his arm and retreating to the other side of the room. 

"What the hell was that, Malfoy?" he practically screamed. 

Draco regarded him for a moment. "Quiet down, Potter. Do you want the whole school to know you just snogged me?" 

"I snogged you? _I_ snogged _you_?" 

Draco laughed. "The specifics are irrelevant. You're mine for twenty-four hours, Potter, and I want to know what the Mudblood fool sees in you." 

Harry turned towards the one window in the room and stared out, trying to regain his temper. 

"Hermione. And. I. Are. Not. An. Item," he ground out. 

"Much to her disappointment, I'm sure." 

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped. 

"Only when you concede defeat, Potter," Draco retorted, suddenly right behind him. "You have to co-operate, Potter. Binding magical contract and all that." 

Harry sucked in breath. "What!" 

"Oh come off it, Potter. You signed the paper. You have to do exactly what I say." 

"I signed no paper!"

"That's lovely. Nonetheless, you're bound by a magical contract."

"What exactly do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked, slightly distracted by Draco's breathy whisper in his ear.

Draco smiled coldly. "What do you think, _Potter_?" 

"I honestly don't know. I'm not a sodding pouf, Malfoy." 

"You won't know until you try." 

"What if I don't want to know?" 

"Well, that's awfully repressed of you. Besides, you have no choice." 

Draco caught up with Harry's frantic pacing in a moment. A moment later, Harry was pinned against a wall. 

"Let… me go!" 

"No." 

Once again, Harry's lips were captured by his enemy's. 

As the Gryffindor boy squirmed, his Slytherin enemy just pinned him closer against the wall. Soon Harry gave up on the squirming and he just submitted passively to Draco's attentions. Soon after, Draco's hands left the wall and clamped onto Harry's shoulders. Then they started to move feverishly along his arms. All this time, the kiss continued. All this time, Harry remained passive. 

Finally, Draco broke the kiss and glared at Harry. 

"You know, people who are passive aggressive are the most annoying of all." 

"I always knew we annoyed each other," Harry retorted, though to his ears it had the sound of a drowning man reaching for a buoy just out of reach. 

Draco was silent. 

"Ah, no matter. Go to bed, Potter. I'll expect you up here, bright and early—Say, 6AM—to discuss our plans for the day." 

With that, he swept out of the room laughing and leaving a very confused, very disturbed Harry Potter behind him. 

When Harry finally remembered to leave the room, the last words that echoed were, "I hate... I _despise_ that rich, stuck-up Slytherin sod. He'll pay for that."

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was now a slave.

And if that wasn't enough to put him in a bad mood, the facts that,

a) He belonged to Draco Malfoy

b) He now had to do whatever Draco said for 24 hours and

c) Draco wasn't even here yet

certainly were.

He paced angrily up and down the length of the room, pausing at each turn to glowering at the still-closed door. This was in vain because when the door finally swished open, Harry was mid-pace and Draco escaped a wrathful glare.

"Hey Potter. I'm here," Draco snapped. "Stop pacing."

"You're late," Harry growled.

"Your little Mudblood friend was following me. I had to lose her," he retorted. Then, as an afterthought, "Or did you want her here?"

"No!" Harry squawked.

Draco nodded, "I was right, then. On to business." 

Draco produced a large sign.

Harry tried to peer around and see the other side, but Draco caught him.

"Nuh uh, uh... first of all, this."

He brandished the most repulsive outfit Harry had ever seen.

It consisted of shiny green lycra tights, a big white shirt with a green and red spotted bow-tie. A large green headband finished the ensemble.

Harry, stared, aghast.

"Slytherin green and everything," Draco said, smugly.

Harry choked. "Come on, Malfoy. You can't expect me to wear that now, can you?"

Draco said nothing and settled down into a chair, staring at Harry thoughtfully.

"Binding magical contract."

Harry knew he was going to get very sick of that phrase. He reluctantly retrieved the awful outfit from Draco' outstretched hands.

Then he stared at Draco, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not going to strip with you in the room, Malfoy."

Draco remained silent, and just stared at Harry.

Harry stared back.

Finally, Draco sighed. "Shall I close my eyes then, Potter?" he snapped.

"Oh, please. If you would," Harry retorted sarcastically, turning away from Draco and preparing to change.

He quickly slipped out of his customary black pants and into the lycra tights, wincing at how closely they fit his form. He was about to change his shirt when a small snigger behind him made him freeze. He spun around to see Draco sniggering and looking pointedly at his crotch.

"You have a nice ass, Potter," Draco said with a smirk.

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Carry on." A haughty hand gesture accompanied this comment.

Glaring the whole time, Harry quickly removed his shirt and shrugged into the white one. It fit him like a tent.

__

At least it goes to my thighs, Harry thought with relief.

"Tuck it in," Draco commanded.

"_What_?" Harry spluttered.

"Tuck it in, Potter."

Muttering hateful curses all the while, Harry complied.

"There. Happy?" he snapped.

"Ecstatic, but we're not done yet," Draco replied, his eyes glinting. 

He leapt out of his chair and went over to the sign, turning it over with a flip of his wrist.

Harry's heart sank.

" 'Potter sucks,' " he read. "Oh, I can see a lot of the famed Malfoy wit went into thinking that one up."

"An oldie but a goodie, methinks."

"Whatever," Harry muttered. "Prat."

Draco strode over and slipped the sign around Harry's neck.

"Now," he announced cheerfully. "We're ready to face the day!"

With that, he bounced out of the room and left Harry to skulk along behind.

Thankfully, there were very few people in the hallway. Only one or two and no-one Harry recognised, though they sure recognised him. His face became progressively redder as they traversed the corridors around the Astronomy Tower.

Eventually, Draco ducked into a room, motioning Harry to follow. Harry was incredibly tempted to just keep walking and make good his escape, but sense asserted itself and he followed his enemy into the room.

Harry's first thought was that this must be an old dance room, for one wall was entirely mirrors. He glanced at his reflection and blushed more.

"Flattering," Draco noted with a smirk.

"Malfoy, I look like a colour-blind ballet dancer."

"Ah, but a _cute_ colour-blind ballet dancer," Draco corrected.

"I despise you."

"Most people do. Shall we go down to breakfast?"

Harry muttered.

"What was that?" Draco chirped.

"You know, your cheerfulness frightens me."

"I'm only happy when you suffer, darling."

  
They left the room again and walked down the corridor separately, the laughing whispers from the students they passed echoing and gathering, rushing like a wave ahead of them. Draco strode ahead of Harry, his grin widening every time he met another group of students.

By the time they reached the Great Hall, the echo was a roar, a roar supplemented and surpassed by the roaring of Harry's own heart. Abruptly, he dug his heels in.

"Malfoy, I can't," he said desperately.

Draco just looked at him. "Can't you?"

Harry shook his head.

"Do you want me to release you, so you can run back to the Gryffindor common room and hide?" he asked mockingly.

Harry held his breath.

Draco laughed. "You ruined Hogwarts for me, Potter. Now I'm returning the favour."

With that, Draco turned and stalked into the Great Hall, pausing only once to say scathingly, "Get that pretty ass in here, Potter."

Harry stared after him, stunned.

__

May as well get this over with, he thought, numbly.

With a deep breath, Harry plunged into the Great Hall and all Hogwarts turned to meet him.


	2. Harry Potter, man in tights

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Like a House on Fire: Chapter Two

By Ellipsis Black  
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Harry is one of the slaves for sale. Draco buys him. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, i just like to pretend they are.  
Warning: Nothing much.  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Notes: This is a rewrite of an older fic of mine, so don't be disturbed by any sense of déja vu.

****

*******************

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Harry Potter, in the Great Hall, wearing _tights_!"

"Oh my stars! Come on!"

*****

__

If I survive this, Harry Potter thought darkly. _I am never, ever listening to Virginia Weasley again._

He looked out over the sea of students, every one dead silent, every face turned to stare at him and reaffirmed that vow over and over again. As he hurried to his customary place at the Gryffindor table, acutely conscious of his absurd outfit and humiliating sign, he added another thought. 

__

If I survive this, he vowed. _Draco Malfoy_ won't.

He quickly settled into his seat, ignoring the looks and snickers he received from his fellow Gryffindor students. Looking up at the head table, he noticed Dumbledore had half-risen from his seat. Seeing Harry eyeing him, the old Headmaster smiled knowingly and settled back into his chair without a word. Harry wasn't sure if he would ever forgive Dumbledore for not doing anything..

Hermione prodded him.

"Do we get an explanation?" she asked, part censure, part amusement.

"Binding magical contract," Harry muttered sourly.

"Inventive git, isn't he?" Run murmured. Then, "So, how do we get him back?"

Harry stared at his friend, a whole realm of possibilities panning out before him. Revenge would be infinitely sweet. Then he realised…

"Not possible, Ron," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because... it's about more than just this. It's between me and him."

"You mean, _us_ and him," Ron corrected.

Harry smiled gratefully, but shook his head again.

"Oh no, this is way more personal. It's between _me_ and him and I'm going to make that stuck-up, spoiled git regret this until the end of his days."

"I don't like the idea of you facing him alone, Harry."

It was Hermione, the soul of solicitousness.

"He can't beat me."

"But he has already," Ron broke in.

Harry did not appreciate being reminded of that fact.

  
Harry had never been so grateful to escape breakfast. As he almost ran down the corridor toward the Gryffindor common room, he checked his watch. Eight AM. 

__

Sixteen hours to go

As he turned a corner, he was stopped by the sight of Draco leaning casually up against the wall. Harry glared at his tormentor, and Draco smirked right back.

"Escaping, are we, Potter?"

"Only from you, Malfoy."

"Since we're going to be in close contact for the next..." he paused

"Sixteen hours," Harry prompted.

Draco flashed him a look of dark amusement. "Trust you to be counting, Potter. As I was saying, Since we'll be in close contact for the next sixteen hours, perhaps we could stop insulting each other every second word?"

Harry stifled a snigger. "That was almost a pick-up line, Malfoy."

"Strong words for someone who was 'not a sodding pouf' only... eight hours ago," Draco said smugly. "You know, I always thought Potter was a rather ugly name."

"And I've always thought that Malfoy sounded like a breed of toad."

Draco obviously did not like this turn of conversation. Moving so quickly Harry could not react, he launched himself from the wall he was leaning on and slammed into Harry his arm circling Harry's waist and pinning the two boys together. Harry stared at him, shocked but before he could even form the thought of retaliation, Draco pressed his mouth into Harry's. Harry clamped his mouth shut and determinedly ignored Draco's violating hands roving his body.

All the while, Draco watched Harry's reaction with shrewd eyes.

Though Harry had remained unresponsive, when Draco's hands began to roam underneath his shirt, he was shocked out of his stillness and began to struggle in earnest, stunned and frightened by how much stronger than him the pale boy had become.

Suddenly, he realised that Draco had gone utterly still, though their lips were still firmly attached. Relieved, he pushed Draco roughly away from him. Draco immediately started breathing fast and deeply in and out.  
"What the Hell was that, Potter?" Draco demanded, before running off down the corridor, flashing Harry a smirk before he vanished.

Harry stared after him.

A quiet cough interrupted his thoughts and he swung around to see Hermione and Ron standing behind him, Hermione's restraining hand on Ron's shoulder.

"What the hell _was_ that, Potter?" Ron echoed through clenched teeth.

Harry made several gestures and squeaking noises, which would have explained his point eloquently if he'd been talking to a mouse.

"Because it looked like you were kissing Draco Malfoy."

Harry spluttered. "_Me_ kissing _him_?? He grabbed me and pinned me against the wall! I didn't have much choice!"

"That's not what it looked like, Harry. Is this your idea of revenge?"

"No, damn you. I have to do anything he says for 24 hours, remember!" Harry snapped.

"So he's making you kiss him?" Ron said bluntly.

"No, he's kissing me. And I will deal with it. Once the 24 hours are over, I will get him back." he snapped before adding quietly. "Somehow." 

Harry fumed. "Why did he do a stupid thing like—eurgh—kissing me?" he asked, glaring at the wall of the room as if he expected it to answer.

__

Damn him

Now Hermione and Ron thought he was strange, if not downright queer. From their perspective it must have seemed like he was the instigator, but he wasn't! "Yet you weren't fighting it," he said quietly to himself.

__

Damn him

"Come on Potter, he's just screwing with your mind. Malfoy goes for everyone who offers, but he never cares about them."

__

Damn him

"But you do, don't you, foolish boy?" said a silky voice behind him.

Harry whirled around to face the one person he just _didn't_ want to see.

"Malfoy."

Draco smiled. "Do you really hate my given name that much?"

"I hate everything about you."

Draco chewed thoughtfully on his lip. "I don't, you know."

"Don't what?"

"Go for anyone who offers."

"Uh huh."

"After all, look at you, you haven't offered..."

"And I don't intend to," Harry snapped firmly.

Draco continued, unfazed, "And I certainly turned down Millicent Bulstrode when she offered."

Draco indulged in a delicate shudder which Harry privately shared.

"Are you here for a reason, Malfoy? Because if you're not I'd prefer if you left me to Rail Against The Unfairness Of It All in peace, thankyou," Harry snapped.

Draco examined his nails, "But this is such a nice room. It has a really pleasant atmosphere, you know?" Draco commented conversationally. "I'm really not feeling at all inclined to leave."

"Then I will," said Harry and made to storm out the door.

"_Firmus_!" Draco yelled, whipping out his wand. "_Locomotor Mortis_!"

The first spell caused the door to slam with considerable force. The second had the unfortunate effect of locking Harry's legs together.

"As I was saying," Draco continued calmly, "This room has a certain ambience. It makes me feel very relaxed."

"It's making me feel slightly immobile..." Harry muttered.

Draco applauded suddenly. "Very good, Harry! I do believe that was an attempt at humour! Excellent! Five points for Gryffindor!"

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit," Harry announced primly.

Draco twirled a strand of hair between his fingers. "Now you see, people keep telling me that. I choose to believe that having any kind of wit is better than having no wit at all."

"That is just so you."

Draco sauntered over to Harry. "And that outfit, _darling_, is just _so_ you," he drawled, running a slender finger down Harry's chest.

Harry struggled against the spell holding him in place.

"How amusing. The Boy Who Lived can fight off the Imperius curse, but he cannot break a simple Leg-locker curse." The finger that had been exploring Harry's chest strayed into the region of his mouth. 

Big mistake

Harry chomped down hard on Draco's finger and the blonde boy hastily retrieved it.

"You know," he said spitefully, cradling his injured finger, "If I was known only as The Boy Who Lived, I think I'd kill myself!"

"If I were known as Lucius Malfoy's son, I _know_ I'd kill myself!" Harry snapped back.

Draco's eyes turned a cold, flinty grey. "Foolish, Potter."

He stalked out of the room, leaving Harry still rendered immobile.

Twenty minutes or so later, just when Harry was considering hopping out of the room, the spell holding him was abruptly released. He didn't know if Draco had consciously removed it, but he was extremely glad it was gone.

The first thing he did was look at his watch. Fourteen hours and fifty minutes to go.

Which meant it was 9:10AM.

Which meant he was late for Potions. 

He dashed out of the room and through the various twists and turns that ended in the potions classroom. He slammed through the door and looked for a place to sit. Hermione and Ron were sitting together. Hermione threw him an apologetic glance and gestured with her head at the only free seat in the room.

Inevitably, it was next to Draco.

Draco barely spared him a glance as he sat down. Snape, on the other hand, had noticed Harry entering and seemed extremely interested in him. Harry's heart dropped into his stomach as Snape glided over.

"Mr. Potter, So kind of you to join my class," said Snape.

"I try," Harry retorted before he could help himself.

Snape's eyes widened. "And so creatively dressed." he added with a smirk.

Raising his voice, he addressed the class with mocking tolerance.

"It seems Mr. Potter disdains our schedules _and_ our uniforms. What next? Perhaps he'll decide to disdain our dormitories and live with the Blast-Ended Skrewts!"

The Slytherins and not a few of the Gryffindors snickered. Draco was conspicuously silent but when Harry looked at his profile, there was a wide, contemptuous smirk plastered all over it.

__

Bastard

Snape had returned to his desk at the front of the classroom. "Now, before Mr. Potter... graced us with his presence, I believe we were brewing hair removal potions, were we not? Please continue."

They worked in silence for a while. With great satisfaction, Harry finished his potion.

"Hey Harry," Draco murmured out of the side of his mouth. "D'you want to make mine for me?"

Harry snorted. "No!"

"Too bad." Draco pushed his cauldron over to Harry's side of the bench.

Harry muttered.

"Well, snap to it, Harry," Draco said with a haughty wave of his hand.

Harry fumed.

Angrily, he began carelessly piling the ingredients, not giving a damn if Draco's potion went awry.

__

In fact, Harry thought spitefully, _I hope it makes his arm drop off!_

It almost did. Once their potions were was finished, everyone was instructed to smear some on their arms and see if it worked. The one Harry had originally created worked brilliantly, but the one he had created for Draco...

Snape was attracted by Draco's panicked screech as the thin white hairs on his arms began growing and darkening at a rapid rate. Snape sprayed some liquid out of a small bottle onto the hairs and they immediately began reversing the transition.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to explain this?" Snape demanded.

"I don't know what happened, sir," Draco lied smoothly. "I measured everything out carefully. I only looked away for a moment..." he glanced at Harry.

Snape followed his gaze. "Well, well, well, Mr. _Potter_. We've resorted to sabotage now, have we? I'll have you know, I don't appreciate you destroying my best student's work."

He made a little gesture. "Switch potions."

Draco's smirk widened.

"What?" exclaimed Harry.

"You heard me. Mr. Malfoy, you shall be graded by Mr. Potter's potion, since that is _almost_ the level of proficiency you could have achieved without his interference. And Mr. Potter, this," he gestured the other cauldron. "Shall be how I determine your mark."

Harry was rendered speechless at the unfairness of it all.

Draco leaned close to him. "Brilliant work, Harry. Meet me back in the Astronomy Tower as soon as lunch begins. Those green tights are giving me a headache."

Harry entertained a brief hope that Draco had tired of torturing him. Then reality reasserted itself and he clenched his teeth in nervous anticipation of his next trial. 


	3. Of lust and frilly pink dresses

****

Like a House on Fire: Chapter Three

By Ellipsis Black  
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Harry is one of the slaves for sale. Draco buys him. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, i just like to pretend they are.  
Warning: Nothing much.  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Notes: This is a rewrite of an older fic of mine, so don't be disturbed by any sense of déja vu.  
**If you want to know when subsequent chapters surface, just leave your e-mail addy in the review and I'll send an e-mail out when new chapters are posted.**

*******************

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were seen snogging in the hall!"

"_What_?? He can't be! _They _can't be!"

"I know. My heart is breaking!"

*****

__

Charms was unpleasant for Harry. Usually it was a reasonably enjoyable class, but he couldn't stop thinking about what Draco was going to make him do next. His mind kept running through all the awful things he could imagine. The class seemed to end very quickly and Harry couldn't decide whether he was relieved or annoyed about this. It all depended on perspective. 

His heart pounded in his rib-cage as he made his way up to the Astronomy Tower. Would Draco be there when he came? He didn't want this to be dragged out longer than it had to.

__

Then again, he thought, trying to make himself feel better, _What could be worse than this outfit?_

He didn't want to think about it. 

Reaching the door of the room he and Draco met in, he let himself in. It was empty. Again, Harry couldn't decide whether he was relieved or annoyed. Shortly after he had settled himself in a chair, Draco struggled in, lugging a large bag behind him. Harry shuddered. This was not good.

"Hello there, Harry. Fancy meeting you here!" Draco said with false cheer. 

"What have you got for me this time?" Harry asked tiredly.

"That's a surprise!" Draco was sickeningly smug. "Hey, thankyou for helping me pass Potions."

Harry seethed. "You deserve to be shot," he snapped.

"You were the one who flubbed the potion, it's only fair that you be marked on it," Draco retorted.

Harry stared. "That is possibly the screwiest logic I have ever heard!" he said, astounded.

"I try," Draco said modestly. He thrust the bag at Harry. "There you go, your new look. Green is not your colour. Makes your skin look sallow."

Harry slowly opened the bag as Draco looked on in amusement.

His first impression was of pink frills. He choked.

It was a pink taffeta party dress. Ribbons adorned the puff sleeves and the neckline. There were bows _everywhere_. There was a lace underskirt just showing under the scalloped hemline.

"Malfoy, this is going way, way too far. There is no way I'm wearing this thing anywhere."

"Oh, really?" was Draco's only comment.

"This is just so wrong on too many levels, Malfoy."

"I know," said Draco proudly.

Harry was desperate. "Malfoy," he pleaded. "Please. Anything but taffeta."

Draco gave him an odd look. Then he smiled. "Okay Potter, I'll show you the option." 

He fished around in his voluminous robe and brought out a white T-Shirt that looked like it had been made to fit an 8 year old. Following that, he brought out tight black pants, black leather gloves and a spiked dog collar.  
Harry swallowed hard. _Well, at least they're... male clothes,_ he thought desperately.

Draco held up the shirt and Harry had a chance to read the writing.

"Draco Malfoy's Bitch??" he said incredulously. "Okay, why do you even _have_ shirts that say that?"

Draco shrugged. "They're in demand. Lavender Brown sleeps in hers."

Harry made a mental note to yell at Lavender.

"How do you know what Lavender sleeps in?" Harry demanded.

Draco gave him a look. "Hm… maybe because I've slept with her?"

Harry really didn't need to know that.

"Hurry up and choose," Draco said, gesturing to the two outfits.

Harry looked at them.

The pink taffeta was girlish, frilly and _pink_. Its only redeeming point was that it was loose, a welcome break after the horribly tight tights.

However, the... other outfit was tight, spiky and _hell_, it said 'Draco Malfoy's Bitch' on it!

Harry collapsed back into the chair.

"I give up," he muttered. "Which one do you prefer?" he asked Draco, curious.

Draco smiled widely and wandered over to perch himself on the arm of the chair. Harry shifted over to get as far from Draco as he could.

"I won't say," he announced smugly, "Because then I know you'll choose the other one, just to be a pest."

__

Bloody smug git, Harry thought grouchily.

"Then I won't choose," Harry said.

"But you have to!" Draco returned. "Take all the time you want, though."

Draco got up off the edge of the chair and resettled himself on Harry's lap. Harry squirmed, trying to unseat the blonde boy, but Draco just laughed.

"Sit still, Harry," he purred, once again wearing that malicious smirk.

Harry tried to sink into the chair. Draco's weight on his lap was surprisingly warm. He closed and then reopened his eyes only to be confronted by Draco's face about three inches from his own. Draco's eyes caught his but Harry could read nothing in their depths except a lust for power and a frightening hint of dementia. 

Unconsciously, Harry's hand gripped Draco's. Draco smiled with his mouth and brought the other hand up to run one slender finger along Harry's jaw; Harry didn't know if it was resignation or confusion which stopped him from protesting this action. Draco's smile widened. He freed his other arm from Harry's grasp and brought it up to cup Harry's cheek. 

Harry stared, mute, into those frightening eyes, drowning in the hypnotic blankness which radiated from them. As if behind glass, he watched Draco part his lips slightly and lean toward him. 

The glass shattered abruptly when their lips touched. Draco's warmth spread from his lips throughout his body, melding with the warmth that originated where Draco sat. It infused his entire being with a tingling burning sensation. Almost involuntarily, he jerked. Draco pulled back slightly.

"I'd go with the second outfit," Draco whispered silkily in Harry's ear, his lips brushing like a feather over the sensitive earlobe. "After all, it's true, isn't it?"

With that Draco rose in one sinuous movement and swept out of the room. It took several minutes for Draco's words to sink in. _"After all, it's true, isn't it?"_

What's true? Harry wondered. Then he realised. The shirt.

Shaking off unexpected lethargy, he leapt to his feet.

"I am not Draco Malfoy's Bitch!" he shouted at the walls. 

__

I am not Draco Malfoy's Bitch! Harry thought again, thrusting the second outfit away from him.

Slipping quickly out of his robes, he stood in his briefs and stared at the dress. 

__

We'll... see how it looks on... he thought.

He stepped into it and pulled it up. Or tried to. It stuck around his hips and wouldn't go any higher.

"Malfoy, you're really cutting down my options here," he muttered to himself.

"Sorry, if I knew you'd be packing in the pudding, I would have had it let out," came that smug voice from the doorway.

Harry whirled around. "Rack off, Malfoy," he snapped.

Draco ignored him and sauntered back into the room. Teasingly, he poked a bit of the exposed flesh of Harry's belly.

"I assumed you were roughly the same size as me," Draco said as Harry recoiled from his cold finger.

"I doubt this dress would even fit you," Harry snapped his eyes traveling scathingly up and down Draco's physique.

Draco glared. "It would!" He gestured imperiously for Harry to hand it to him.

Somewhat reluctant to give up his only cover, Harry complied and then quickly reached for the leather pants.

Draco laughed. "You're not going to be able to wear those over briefs," he said with a smirk. "You looked funny enough with the tights over them. The panty-line was horrendous! You'll either have to go commando or find a thong."

Harry froze. "No way, Malfoy,"

Draco smiled sweetly, putting Harry in mind of the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. "Oh yes way, Potter."

Harry snarled and put down the leather pants. Draco had resumed shucking off his clothes and as he bent over to step into the dress, Harry was graced with a very tasty view of the other boy's backside. He shuddered. There was something inherently wrong with thinking of any part of Draco's body as tasty.

"Do me up, Potter," came the smarmy command as Draco slipped the dress over his own slim hips with ease.

  
Muttering, Harry pulled the zipper up. Draco turned around and struck a pose.

"Couldn't get it on eh, Potter?" he laughed, smugly.

Draco settled himself into the chair, narcissistically arranging the frills and ruffles around himself.

Harry resolved not to give Draco the satisfaction of seeing him blush. 

He knew from experience that Draco would ignore any request for privacy, but it didn't stop him from telling Draco hopefully to turn around. 

When the expected cheerfully malicious refusal came, he sighed and turned around himself, quickly slipping out of his briefs and into the leather pants. The few moments he spent in the buff, between briefs and pants, he could feel Draco watching him. There was something wrong with having Draco ogling your butt. 

The leather chafed horrendously and he found himself wishing for any kind of underwear... including a thong. There was something wrong in wishing for a thong. 

At this point, Harry decided there was just something inherently wrong with the world. 

Once he had the pants on, he slipped into the shirt, which just reached to the middle of his torso and was so tightly transparent it was like wearing nothing, _Except that nothing didn't have 'Draco Malfoy's Bitch' splashed all over it,_ Harry thought sourly.

"Dashing," murmured Draco, who seemed to have amused himself by adding the rest of the unfortunate pink outfit to his costume, right down to the cutesy pink bow in his hair and the frilly white stockings and shiny black shoes.

Harry stomped over to sit down in the other chair in the room. He picked up the first of the knee length boots and proceeded to struggle into it.

"There's a zipper, dolt," Draco uncurled himself from his chair and came over to help Harry with the boot. There was indeed a zipper, and it made the application of the boots much, much easier.

As they struggled with the second boot, Draco's hand found its way to Harry's thigh. Harry froze before ignoring it and going back to pulling the boot on. 

Draco zipped it up, his hand lingering behind Harry's knee before he leaned over to get the spiked dog collar. When Harry moved to take it from him, Draco held it out of reach and murmured 'Let me'. He stood up slowly and settled himself on Harry's lap. Harry, uncomfortably reminded of the last time Draco sat on his lap, only fifteen minutes ago, squirmed. He was told tartly to sit still. 

Draco leaned forward, his breath caressing Harry's mouth, and wrapped his arms around Harry's neck to fasten the collar. Harry was tempted beyond all endurance by the proximity of the other boy, so fetchingly dressed up and blurring the boundaries of gender. It seemed natural to him to grab Draco's jaw and pull it towards him, closing the gap between their lips. As always, it was roaring need the moment their lips touched. Draco was pliant as Harry's hands roamed in his hair, sporadically grabbing handfuls of it, or weaving his fingers into little knots of the silky threads. 

After an hour or a second, Harry couldn't tell which, the kiss broke. Harry stared into Draco's eyes, not moving. There he read the need for power and the dementia he had read before, but overlaying that was another emotion. Pure, unadulterated lust. He wondered if the blond boy could read the same thing in his eyes, because he knew it was there.

Slowly, as if any movement might cause him to shatter, Draco stood up. He stared at his reflection when he caught it in the mirror.

"Potter," he said raggedly. "Unzip me."

Harry stood up equally slowly. He made his way over to Draco, wobbling. He was uncertain whether it was the 6-inch stiletto heel or the hormones that cruised his bloodstream that made him unsteady but he suspected a mixture of both. He tried to pull down the zip to free Draco from the pink creation and failed. Tried again... and failed. 

Suddenly he started laughing hysterically.

"Malfoy..." he said. "It's stuck!"

Draco blanched as much as was possible with his pale skin. "It's _what_??" he demanded.

"It's stuck," Harry repeated, laughing so hard his sides hurt. 

Draco stared at him.

"Looks like this is the world's revenge on you for all your misdeeds." Harry exclaimed fancifully, clutching at the nearest object for support so that he didn't collapse with the hysteria that clutched him. "I guess you'll have to suffer the humiliation with me!"

The nearest object happened to be Draco's shoulder. Draco bore the brunt of Harry's hilarity stoically, fuming silently until waves of anger seemed to roll off him, crashing with the hysterical laughter Harry was producing.

"Shut your freaking trap, Potter, or I'll ram your wand up your arse!" 


	4. When all you can say is 'woof'

****

Like a House on Fire: Chapter Four

By Ellipsis Black  
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Harry is one of the slaves for sale. Draco buys him. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, i just like to pretend they are.  
Warning: Nothing much.  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Notes: This is a rewrite of an older fic of mine, so don't be disturbed by any sense of déja vu.

****

*******************

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Draco gave Harry one of his shirts."

"The DMB shirts?"

"Yeah, those."

"I'm so jealous! I've wanted one forever!"

"Me too!"

****

*******************

Harry decided that nothing could ever be remotely as funny as the image of Draco in a royal rage wearing a pink party dress. The fact that he was enjoying seeing exactly that was diminished only slightly by his very uncomfortable, very embarrassing current attire.

"So, Malfoy," he began smugly. "What are you going to do?"

"Shut up, bitch," Draco snapped. "I'm thinking." 

Suddenly, he started smiling slightly. The smile widened and soon Draco was laughing evilly for all he was worth. Even as he was extremely worried about what Draco was thinking, Harry was grudgingly impressed by the depth and malice of Draco's evil cackle. 

"Stay," Draco said eventually.

He swept out of the room, pink taffeta rustling behind him.

Harry settled into the chair, vainly trying to pull out the most painful wedgie of his life. He reflected sourly that going commando under leather pants was never comfortable. Not that a thong would have helped much. Then he would have a permanent wedgie. It was a measure of his instability that Harry didn't even notice that he had spent the last three minutes thinking about wedgies.

__

Why does Draco always have to pick on me? he thought grumpily. 

At that moment, Draco reappeared, looking sour.

"Do you know how hard it is to avoid been seen going from here to the Slytherin common room during lunch?" he complained.

Harry shrugged. "Don't expect any sympathy, Malfoy. You brought this upon yourself."

The look Draco slashed at him should have left him bleeding. "At least I'm not wearing tight pants, pudding," he snapped.

Harry mimed being shot by an arrow. "Ouch!"

"Anyway," Draco continued, ignoring Harry's bizarre antics, "I have an excellent plan."

Harry stopped faking a death scene. "Oh?"

Draco strutted over to where Harry had been rolling around on the floor moaning. He produced a furry brown headband with dog ears on it and ceremoniously placed it on Harry's head.

Harry flashed Draco his patented what-the-hell-are-you-doing look.

Draco flashed Harry his trademark I'm-better-than-you-are-so-just-do-my-bidding,-pawn look.

Five minutes later, Draco's binding-magical-contract! look made Harry give in with nothing more than a muttered "Spoiled brat."

Smugly, Draco produced a leash and briskly clipped it onto Harry's spiked dog collar. Harry stared. _That can't be good,_ he thought apprehensively and prayed fervently to any convenient deity that this did not mean what he thought it meant.

"Now say woof."

Harry snarled. Obviously he had prayed to the wrong deity.

"That was a very impressive snarl. Now woof."

"Woof."

"Very good!" Draco exclaimed sarcastically. "Damn Harry, have some spirit! Don't make me spell your voice..."

"Woof!"

"Obviously the leather is pinching your balls," Draco muttered.

Harry fought a very canine urge to bite Draco on the leg. 

"Now, crawl!"

Reluctantly, Harry did as commanded, the urge to sink his teeth into Draco's leg intensifying.

"Come on," Draco said briskly. "We're going to tour the halls."

"Don't I get to eat?"

Draco glared at him. "Oh uh... woof woofle arf grr?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "No, you don't get to eat. It'll do you good. You can loose some weight."

"Rar."  


****

*******************

  
Harry's knees and hands hurt from crawling. He was getting a headache from the tight doggy headband. The leather was pinching in nasty places. His throat was dry from woofing.

That was all shit, but worst of all, Draco seemed to be _enjoying_ himself! How he could enjoy himself while strutting around Hogwarts wearing a pink dress escaped Harry, but he suspected it had something to do with the fact that Harry was forced to crawl along behind him and woof, bark, snarl or snap at passing students.

__

I don't know where he gets the ideas for all these tortures, Harry thought to himself, then got a disturbing mental picture of Lucius Malfoy in knee socks and pigtails dragging Draco around behind him on a leash. Harry twitched.

His stomach rumbled.

__

Oh, bloody brilliant. Well, I think that's every part of me accounted for and complaining now, he thought grouchily.

"Harry!" he looked up.

"Hermione!" he returned to the girl now standing, legs akimbo in front of Draco.

Draco glanced warningly at him. 

"Werwyminny woof!" he said.

"Draco Malfoy, what are you doing?" she demanded.

Draco looked innocently at her. "Why, I'm just a girl taking my bitch for a walk," he said sweetly, pointing at Harry's T-shirt.

Hermione stared at him. "I'm going to tell Professor McGonagal!" she snapped.

Draco dropped the innocent act. "I wouldn't," he said menacingly.

"And why not?" 

"Binding Magical Contract." he purred. "Right, Potter?"

"Arf."

They both stared at him. Draco with annoyance, Hermione like he was mad.

"Woof?"

Draco, apparently tired of talking to someone as _déclassé _as Hermione, whirled and set a brisk pace down the hall toward the dungeon, dragging his unfortunate bitch along behind him.

Harry struggled to keep up, eventually abandoning his ineffective crawl and jogging along beside in order to avoid being strangled. Hermione quickly caught up with them.

"You shouldn't be allowed to do this, Malfoy."

"And who's going to stop me? Your precious McGonagal? I think not," Draco was infuriatingly smug.

"You may be able to command him, but you can't command me!"

"Oh, so you want to get your friend in trouble? Aren't you a Gryffindor? Don't you subscribe to all that standing-up-for-one's-friends, loyalty-to-the-death garbage? Or didn't you get the latest newsletter?"

Hermione was silent for a while. Finally she said, "Then I'll take it to Dumbledore. He'll understand."

Draco's eyes were queerly bright. "Dumbledore may regard Potter with favouritism, but not even he can overturn this. Potter is mine, come hell or high water, until midnight."

Hermione was silenced. Harry wished he could offer her a comforting word, but had a feeling that 'Arf' wouldn't make her feel any better.

Finally, they reached the bare stone wall which was Slytherin's equivalent of a Portrait Hole.

"Wait here," Draco said to Harry before inaudibly whispering the password and vanishing inside. 

There was only one explanation for Harry's behavior, Hermione had announced. 

That he was under some kind of spell.

Harry himself had decided that he had accidentally inhaled some Muggle drug which was making him lightheaded and irrational but he didn't think that telling Hermione of his theory would make her be quiet. Well, it might for a little while, but then she'd just start yelling at him again. All in all, it seemed safest to just stand and look apologetic. Hopefully Draco would emerge soon.

That thought brought him up short. He was looking forward to Draco coming back? Then again, Draco's sneaky, _quiet_, underhandedness was definitely preferable to Hermione's loud shouting. Harry put a hand to his forehead. His headache was definitely getting worse.

"I am _really_ wondering about what I saw in the hall this morning. Why was he kissing you? You certainly weren't resisting, in fact, it looked like you were the initiator! There is something you're not telling me."

Harry took a deep breath. "Actually yes, Hermione. There's an awful lot I'm not telling you. And you know why? Because it's none of your business."

The instant it was out, he regretted it. Hermione bit her lip, finally silenced. Perversely, Harry's headache got worse.

Finally she said quietly, "I don't know why I help you. I can only guess that it's because you're my friend."

"Yeah," Harry snapped, goaded into an even rasher response. "That just _must _be it."

"Oh, shall I leave you to wallow in debauchery and humiliation then?"

"One kiss is hardly debauchery." _Three kisses might be pushing uncomfortably close though... especially with someone as sensual as Draco_

Dammit, did he just think that? That was not a healthy thing to think. First of all, this was Draco Malfoy. And second of all, he was quite definitely straight.

As if to prove this to himself, he grabbed Hermione around the waist and planted a sweet kiss on her lips.

As if stung, she leapt back, glaring fit to kill. Come to think of it, that had been a very stupid idea.

At this point, Harry's imagination escaped from the rest of his brain and pelted away. _Draco is a better kisser. _Fortunately, before any more untold damage could be done by Harry's marauding imagination, his common sense caught it and demanded to know what it was doing. Harry then consigned his imagination to a deep, dark box, guarded by his Gryffindorish sensibilities with firm instructions never to let it see the light of day again.

Thus in control of his mind once more, Harry shuddered. Now _that_ had been the scariest thought he'd ever had. 

This highly unproductive train of thought was cut off by the stinging connection of a palm to his cheek. Hermione's palm. He stared at her in shock.

"You prick," she choked out.

"Fascinating," came a cold voice.

Malfoy. Not good.

Harry saw that he had managed to get the pink dress off (no doubt it was lying in pieces at the bottom of some trunk right now) and was back in his Hogwarts robes. Harry felt a bitter envy as he reluctantly put his dog ears back on.

"That will make a lovely picture, Granger," he said silkily, holding up a camera, and removing a string of negatives. He snapped his finger, whispered a spell and the camera vanished

Harry smacked his forehead with his hand. 

__

Very, very stupid. 

He knew Ron had been nurturing a mad crush on Hermione for months. What was worse, he knew Ron knew he knew. If Ron saw those pictures…

Hermione then did something so underhanded and Slytherinish that Harry gave her a look of frightened respect. She simply snatched the negatives out of Draco's hand and hared off down the corridor. Draco stared after her for a moment before grabbing Harry's leash and giving chase. Hermione had a fair lead, but not so much that Draco's long stride wasn't soon gaining on her. That was when it occurred to Harry that he should be aiding Hermione's escape. He dug his heels in and stopped, narrowly avoiding being jerked off his feet when the slack in the leash snapped tight and Draco was forced to an abrupt halt.

  
Draco whirled around and gave him a withering glare. Then slowly the tension drained out of his face and he started to smirk. Soon he was laughing uproariously.

"Your Mudblood friend is a fool," he said in between bouts of laughter. "She may have the negatives, but it was a witch camera! It remembers every photo ever taken on it and can duplicate them."

Which meant they needed to get the camera.

Damn and blast it.

Harry ran through schemes to get into the Slytherin dorms. They all came up impossible. So distracted was he with his scheming that he didn't notice what had happened until Draco had him pushed up against the wall of the deserted corridor. The Slytherin boy's breath was coming in warm puffs right onto Harry's lips. A perfect plan formed in his mind.

He would seduce Draco into letting him into the Slytherin dorms! Everyone knew Draco was both dumb and lusty enough to fall for it! At least, he thought they knew that... and if they didn't, well they must be stupid.

Draco swooped in and planted a soft kiss on Harry's lips. Harry, sensing that Draco would be suspicious if he was enthusiastic, turned his head away. 

Draco, undeterred, fastened his lips on Harry's earlobe and Harry made a quiet sound deep in his throat and, seemingly involuntarily, turned his lips to meet Draco's. Their lips met in an intense melding.

"There," Draco whispered, his voice husky. "Am I not a better kisser than that mudblood?"

"I don't know..." Harry said after a pause. "She has had a lot of experience."

He hoped Hermione never heard about that little fib.

"And I haven't?" Draco purred, leaning closer.

Harry hedged. "Well now, I don't know anything about your experience."

Deciding this had gone too far, the Gryffindor boy removed himself from his rival's grasp using a sneaky little maneuvre he had learnt in the muggle schoolyard.

"And what are you two boys doing here? You should be in class, both of you!"

Guiltily, they both turned. It was Professor McGonagall. Harry wished he knew how much she'd seen. 

Probably too much. He almost wished it had been Snape who had caught them. Snape would have played it down to protect his wonderful Draco. Harry could hope for no such concessions from his Head of House.

"I think you two had better come and explain this in my office," she said ominously. "Now." 


	5. The beauty of power

****

Like a House on Fire: Chapter Five

By Ellipsis Black  
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Harry is one of the slaves for sale. Draco buys him. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, i just like to pretend they are.  
Warning: Nothing much.  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Notes: This is a rewrite of an older fic of mine, so don't be disturbed by any sense of déja vu.  
**If you want to know when subsequent chapters surface, just leave your e-mail addy in the review and I'll send an e-mail out when new chapters are posted.**

*******************

"Have you heard the news?"

"What news?"

"Dreadfully underinformed, aren't you?"

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

"Malfoy made Harry bark like a dog!"

"_What_?"

"Yep, and from what I hear, he also got a sordid photo. I wish I knew what it was of!"

****

*******************

"First of all, Mr. Potter, take those absurd dog ears off," commanded Professor McGonagall.

Harry gratefully obliged. Draco was lounging in a chair beside him, seemingly completely uncaring of what the consequences of all this could be.

"Now, explain."

Harry was torn. On one hand it would be an easy way out of this mess. On the other, if he did that to Draco, he would never convince Draco to give him that camera, and without that camera, Draco could just pick up the game when all the fuss had died down. He sighed.

"Oh, it's nothing Professor. Malfoy and I were excited about a discovery we had made in the Library and we were just running to tell the... people about it."

The Professor looked unconvinced. "No doubt you also have an explanation for your attire."

"Professor, we were trying to come up with a suggestion for the Hogwarts school play and we thought we'd brainstorm better in costume. When you found us, I had just changed and Potter was just about to go up to the Gryffindor dorms and change," Draco interjected, sincerity oozing out of every pore.

"Hogwarts doesn't do a school play, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagal snapped flatly.

"That's because no-one has ever come up with a good idea for one, Professor." Draco smiled at her and glanced at Harry.

Harry got the feeling that, having tangled them both up in his little fib, Draco was now going to let him deal with untangling them.

"Well then Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. Permit me to escort you up to Professor Dumbledore to explain your idea to him. Although I suspect Mr. Filch will be in charge of the school play this year," she said, raising an eyebrow. 

The trip to Dumbledore's office seemed shorter than ever. McGonagall tapped on the door and whispered the password. The entrance swung open and McGonagall gestured for Draco and Harry to enter. She showed no inclination of following them and the portal swung closed again. Turning, Harry made his way up towards Dumbledore's office. He could hear Draco following him.

"Ah, Harry. What a delightful surprise. And young Mr. Malfoy too, I see. Please, sit down. Now, would you care to explain to me why you're here?"

Harry repeated Draco's previous explanation, figuring that even such a weak lie could be strengthened by consistency.

"Ah, very interesting, Harry. What was your great idea?"

"I beg your pardon?" Harry was slow to catch on.

"Why, for the play! I think it's a simply marvelous idea."

Harry coughed.

Draco quickly interrupted. "It's a tragedy."

"Very interesting," said Dumbledore. "It will have its comic relief, I hope?"

"Of course," Harry said quickly. "There will be a bumbling villain."

"With a painful secret hidden deep in his heart," Draco added.

"The villain's name is Snaco." Harry exclaimed.

Draco glared at him. "There's a hero in denial who can't do the simplest magic. His name is Hairy."

Harry glared back. "Hairy and Snaco were mortal enemies in their Hogwarts days and their hatred is still strong."

"There will be a reign of terror taking over England. The hero and villain both return to Hogwarts to fight the evil, Snaco is pretending to be good so he can stab Hairy in the back at the last moment," Draco improvised.

They were alternating regularly now. Dumbledore sat with his fingers steepled, gazing at them.

"But Snaco has secretly sold himself out to the dark side."

"There is a spectacular battle!"

"In which the hero triumphs."

"By falling over a bucket and tripping Snaco over."

"They are both badly injured." Harry rolled his eyes at Draco.

"When Snaco awakes from his healing sleep there is a beautiful woman caring for him."

"Only Hairy has realised that Snaco is working for the dark side."

"He falls instantly in love with her because her heart is as black as his is and they join forces and take over the world and make lots of evil little children. The End."

Harry was not prepared to let their impromptu play end like that.

"Snaco only thinks it is the end. In reality, Hairy has been hiding out and waiting until he is strong enough to defeat Snaco. He sneaks into Snaco's fortress and stabs him fifteen times in his vile heart."

"Unfortunately, for Hairy, he had stabbed one of Snaco's body doubles. Overcome by guilt at having killed in cold blood, Hairy throws himself off the nearest cliff."

"He lands in the sea and is washed up unconscious on a beautiful island."

"Meanwhile, Snaco has fortified his fortress so that Hairy could never get in again."

"One day, while walking on his battlements, Dra-I mean, Snaco- slips on a patch of slime and falls to his doom, impaled by his own defenses."

Draco seemed perfectly enraged. "Meanwhile, unaware of his enemy's demise, Hairy sets off by boat to find and kill Snaco. He gets eaten by a sea monster. The end."

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. Finally he said, "Well it certainly is tragic... and I can see potential for humour... I'll get on to the relevant powers soon, boys. Could you two please refine the concepts a bit more so we can give it to some scriptwriters?"

"Professor," Draco said, looking shocked.

Harry was impressed. He hadn't though anyone could cause Draco to feel an emotion other than amusement or anger. Unless you counted evil as an emotion.

Harry looked hopefully over at Dumbledore. No, he wasn't joking.

Draco had recovered his poise. Leaning indolently back in his chair he fixed the Headmaster with a stare over his proverbial glasses.

"Actually, Professor Dumbledore, Potter and I were just having a little fun. You see, I bought him at the Slave Auction, so he has to do what I say for twenty-four hours."

"Oh," said Dumbledore, looking vaguely disappointed.

Harry stared in Draco in amazement. "Why couldn't you just say that to Professor McGonagall?" he asked.

Draco shrugged. "Didn't want to."

****

After the incident in Dumbledore's office, Draco had let Harry go to class, demanding that Harry be back at their usual room straight afterwards. Harry, of course had been compelled to do so. He had found Draco sitting in the chair, but the other boy had stood up and gone to stare out the window.

Harry was musing about their abortive play. "What would Snaco's first line be, I wonder? How about 'I am a selfish git who wears tight underwear and has a girly voice'?" 

Draco whirled. "Are you suggesting something?"

Harry shrugged. "Why? Does he remind you of someone?"

Draco stalked. "No, not really."

Harry was suddenly incredibly proud of himself. He had flustered Draco Malfoy. Draco 'Ice-Man' Malfoy. Draco 'I-don't-have-one-emotion-in-this-pretty-little-head' Malfoy.

Wait. Pretty? Harry hoped he hadn't just thought what he thought he had thought.

Then Draco turned again to face Harry, who had sat down in one of the chairs.

"Maybe," the Slytherin began. "Snaco and Hairy were lovers. Then Hairy met a girl and fell in love with her. Snaco was hurt by Hairy's cold rejection and the hurt became anger and the anger became hate and soon all that was left of their love was burning enmity."

By the time he had said this Draco was standing so close to Harry that his stomach was just about brushing Harry's nose. Harry swallowed hard and lent away.

"That is how it happened, you know." Draco said quietly bending over so that his hair was brushing Harry's forehead. "Oh, there was no love, no girl. But never forget, Harry that you rejected my friendship on the train, not the other way around."

Harry was shocked. He was about to protest his but Draco was staring at his lips. Nervously, he licked them. Draco's small, pink tongue mimicked the action. Before he knew what was happening, Draco was kissing him again. He seemed almost angry, the way his lips ground into Harry's. Suddenly frightened for some reason, Harry struggled. He didn't expect Draco to care but to his surprise the Slytherin boy broke the kiss immediately. 

With a look of slight disgust Draco stalked over to the other of the armchairs and threw himself into it. Harry's heart was galloping as he tried to catch a breath. 

There was silence. 

At that moment, the door flew open and a very agitated Ron stood in the doorway.

"Harry, there you are!" Ron practically yelled. "You've got Quidditch Practice now!"

Harry swore a vile oath and glanced at Draco, who was looking ominously thoughtful.

"Can I go?" Harry asked him cautiously.

Draco started. "What? Oh, yes Potter. Run along." He smirked.

Harry, not willing to risk Draco's mercurial moods, hared out of the room. After a quick stopover to escape the dreadful outfit he was _still_ wearing, he grabbed his broom and ran down to the Quidditch Pitch.

The whole team was waiting for him, looking put-out. He grinned and scuffed his toe.

Lavender Brown, now playing Chaser on the Gryffindor Team, pounced. "I see you're back in school clothes, Harry," she said by way of beginning.

Colin Creevey, a Beater, joined in. "Yeah, what's the story with your outfits today?"

Harry sighed, then, without compunction, used his authority as Quidditch Captain to make them all be quiet.

After Quidditch, Harry figured he had a little while before his stalker came hunting him, and there was something he needed to do. He found Hermione where he expected her to be, curled up in her favourite chair in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a blessing on Gryffindor house that Harry had finally grown up enough to acknowledge when he was in the wrong, and apologise, which was what he came to do now. 

Hermione glanced up as he approached her cautiously. He could see by her frosty expression that she was still cross with him. During Quidditch Practice, he had come to the sheepish realisation that she had every right to be angry, first for his manner, and then that unfortunate kiss.

"Hey, Hermione," he began awkwardly. "I'd just like to say I'm sorry. For earlier."

She glared at him and said nothing.

"My behaviour was wrong and I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. It was unfair of me."

Hermione kept him hanging for a while, then she smiled. "Well then."

Harry was glad Hermione had forgiven him, but he could feel Draco searching for him, like the tugging of a string attached to his breastbone. Resigned, he left the Common Room.

He found Draco still sitting in that same room. Around him were strewn the accouterments of his fun. In the corner lay the green tights and tent-like shirt, with the sign propped up beside them. In the centre of the room, his school robes were lying in a crumpled heap. He eyed it longingly, but since he was now in Quidditch robes, the urgency to be clothed in his school robes was rather less than it had been.

As he closed the door, Draco looked up, his eyes unfocussed. Draco waved his arm casually at Harry's clothes.

"There, change." He said shortly, before leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes.

Harry was quite put off by this change in Draco's demeanor.

On the other hand, he reflected, he didn't feel quite as threatened by this new Draco, and he _had_ resolved to seduce his way into the Slytherin dorms.

After he was once again dressed in his robes, he wandered over to where Draco still sat in the same position. For some reason his heart was pounding madly.

"Draco," he whispered. "I can't get the collar off, will you remove it?"

Draco looked up in surprise as Harry straddled his thighs, resting his own knees on the edge of the chair.

"Sure," Draco said, sounding tired. 

He reached up and put his arms around Harry's neck to find the buckle. Harry leant forward, ostensibly to make it easier for Draco. Eventually his head was resting on Draco's shoulder. Draco's hands faltered for a moment then continued fiddling until the collar was undone. 

When Harry didn't move, Draco lowered his arms and let them rest on Harry's back. 

Suddenly they were kissing frantically. Harry's teeth were mashing against Draco's lips, then Draco's lips opened. Draco's hands were sliding under Harry's shirt, leaving tingles were they moved frantically. Harry gave himself up to it. After all, he needed to get that camera.

By now, Draco was shirtless. His hands were reaching into Draco's pants. 

"Draco," Harry whispered when he judged the time was right. "Can we—could we do this in a bed?"

Draco blinked at him, eyes slightly glazed.

"Yours is closer," Harry continued, which was true. The Gryffindor Tower was on the other side of the castle, whereas the Slytherin Dungeon was directly below them.

Finally, Draco nodded.


	6. In and out

****

Like a House on Fire: Chapter Six

By Ellipsis Black  
Summary: Hogwarts is holding a Charity Slave Auction. Harry is one of the slaves for sale. Draco buys him. What ensues is a chain of events in which Harry is never quite sure what's going on, Draco wears a dress, Hermione gets angry and Ron gets forgotten.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, i just like to pretend they are.  
Warning: Nothing much.  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
Notes: This is a rewrite of an older fic of mine, so don't be disturbed by any sense of déja vu.  


*******************

They made it down to the Slytherin Dungeons as decorously as could be expected. The entrance opened at Draco's muttered 'absinthe' and they dived inside. Fortunately, at this time most of the students were having dinner in the Great Hall. They were able to commando roll their way to Draco's dorm room without being seen. 

Draco pushed Harry onto his bed and pulled the green drapes closed. In his haste he didn't notice that they weren't closed properly, but Harry did.

In fact, through the gap, Harry could see Draco's belongings chest—lid open, contents strewn in disarray. On the top was lying something that looked rather like a camera.

Draco was fiddling with his waistband. It was oddly enjoyable and Harry found himself forgetting why he was supposed to resist this. It wasn't that Draco was particularly adept, more that his movements burned with earnest sincerity and Harry, who had never seen Draco like this, was intrigued by it.

Draco's tapered fingers brushed, icy, along Harry's side and he shivered.

He knew he was going to have to act quickly. He pushed aside Draco's hands and rolled out from under the blonde boy. He hurried over to the chest and hauled out the camera, grinning triumphantly.

"I've got what I came for, Malfoy! Now I'll just be leaving!"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Potter, that's a straightening wand."

Harry took a good look at it. "Fuck me, you're right." He returned the item to Draco's chest and started rummaging.

"Ahah!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's a ring box."

"Ahah!"

"Mobile Torture Studio"

"Ahah!"

"Sock."

"Dammit. Malfoy, where is the camera?"

"Here." Draco produced it.

Harry did a dive tackle roll and grabbed it out of Draco's hands, managing to score a few sickles out of Draco's pocket at the same time.

Draco's face, previously animated with desire, then bored, drained utterly of expression, leaving it a stony mask. The instant transition from human to statue was disturbing.

"Fine, if that's all you want, you've got it. Take it and go."

For some reason, Harry lingered, staring with grudging concern at the boy on the bed.

"You got what you want," Draco repeated, his volume rising slightly. "Take it and _go_!"

He looked a little lost, Harry thought distractedly. A spirit stuck in earthly form, a vision, white limbs tangled in white sheets, punctuated by the occasional glimpses of black trousers.

Harry considered returning Draco's sickles to him, but they jingled so nicely in his pocket.

Draco jumped up off the bed and ran over to shove at Harry, trying to push him out the door.

"_Go_!" he repeated again, sounding slightly hysterical.

He was crying, Harry realised. Not much, but a little bit. There was wetness gleaming at the corner of his eyes.

It was odd seeing Draco cry and knowing he had caused it. He enjoyed seeing Draco angry, or offended, but crying? That was serious.

Disturbed, he hurried out of the dorm, clutching the camera. The Slytherin Common Room was still blessedly empty and it was an easy trip back up to the Gryffindor dorms.

Harry stared at the canopy over his bed. The sickles were safely stashed. Oh, and the camera too, of course.

He shouldn't feel guilty, but he did. Worse, he felt regretful that he had stopped the interlude before it went any further.

So far, he had slept about twelve seconds in total. He had no idea what time it was, except that it was late.

Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for the invisibility cloak. A nocturnal ramble sounded like an excellent idea. He would stay far away from the Slytherin dorms.

Whipping the cloak over his head, he left the dormitory. The Fat Lady, by now used to the Portrait Hole opening mysteriously, didn't even stir. Harry had taken a lot of nocturnal strolls this year.

He headed away from the Gryffindor Common Room, towards the Library.

When he reached the Library, he paused and then, without thought, turned left and headed down a long flight of stairs.

What if he hadn't grabbed the camera? What would have happened? Would he have had sex for the first time, with a boy he didn't even really like, in the Slytherin Dorms? Wouldn't that have been worse?

__

Of course it would have! said Harry's head, but unfortunately, other parts of Harry disagreed. His nose, for example, was adamantly in opposition.

Reaching the end of the staircase, he took a right and walked down a hallway with high vaulted stone ceilings.

Draco's behaviour was really bizarre. First he taunted and humiliated Harry, then he cajoled and tried to seduce him, then he became all wounded and defensive. 

Harry was slightly shocked to realise that he wanted to know what to make of Draco's actions. He wanted to know whether these abrupt mood swings were normally part of Draco's character. He wanted to know why Draco had chosen this absurd situation rather than just approaching Harry normally.

All in all, Harry just wanted to know about Draco.

At the end of the corridor, he turned left, then right and found himself standing in front of the damp stone wall which marked the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room.

He stared at it for a while. He could go in there and wake Draco up… he even knew the password.

"Absinthe," he said under his breath, testing the word.

Apparently this was enough, because the stone door concealed in the wall rolled open.

Well, the door was open and Harry figured he had nothing to lose at this point. His dignity was already lying in rags by the roadside begging for knuts.

He snuck through, paused to gain his bearings and then headed towards Draco's dorm room. 

Harry took the invisibility cloak off. He carefully snuck over to Draco's bed and carefully pushed aside the drapes. Crabbe snored on, peaceful as a baby, thumb stuck in his mouth. Harry twitched and hastily shut the drapes. He could have sworn that was Draco's bed.

"Oi," came a soft voice from behind him, "Dipstick. Are you looking for me?"

Draco was curled up, almost in fetal position, facing Harry and glaring through a gap in the drapes.

Now that he thought about it's Harry remembered that as being Draco's bed. Oh, curse the Potter lack of directional sense.

Harry headed over and climbed carefully onto the bed, letting the drapes fall shut after him. Harry climbed on top of Draco, one leg on either side, and stared down at the blonde boy.

"Hi," he whispered.

Draco scowled. "Was the climbing-on-top-of thing really necessary?"

Harry said, "I just came down to apologise for before."

Draco scowled. "And you had to do this in the middle of the night because…?"

"I couldn't sleep," Harry said defensively.

"Oh."

"So yeah, I'm sorry about before."

"Why? You came down here for the camera, didn't you?"

Draco's eyes were cold, but Harry could tell he wasn't as immune to the situation as he pretended.

"Yeah, but… I… liked what we were doing too…" Harry said, his face burning.

Draco smiled. "Oh really? Well fuck you, Potter. Now go away, I want to sleep."

Harry hissed his annoyance. "Don't be stupid, Malfoy."

"_Stupid_? This, from Mr. I-can't-remember-where-Draco's-bed-is-despite-the-fact-that-I-was-there-les-than-three-hours-ago!'"

"Um, yeah."

Before Draco could reply, Harry leaned down. Balancing on his elbows, he pressed his body to Draco's and kissed the blond boy.

Draco's body softened and melded to Harry's after a few moments, and Draco's lips opened beneath his. The Slytherin's arms came up to encircle Harry's waist and press their bodies together.

Draco rolled Harry so that they were lying side by side, facing each other. Both boys were wearing loose pajama tops, and Harry's hands quickly traveled underneath Draco's caressing the smooth planes of his chest.

Draco's hands slipped into Harry's pants, tracing patterns on the curve of his buttocks.

"I've wanted to touch your arse all day," he whispered, his breath hot on Harry's face.

Harry sighed with pleasure and turned in Draco's arms so that his back was pressed to Draco's front and Draco's hands were caressing his hipbone. Harry leaned back, arching into Draco's touch. 

Draco let his hand rest there while he pressed his cheek against Harry's neck, feeling calm and relaxed. Harry was pliant in his arms.

After a few moments, Draco realised Harry had gone to sleep. He smiled slightly.

It was probably a good thing. He didn't really want to indulge in any serious hanky-panky with Crabbe and Goyle sleeping in the same room.

It wasn't long before Draco was asleep too.

And then, the little silver figurine on the bed opened its eyes and chirped quietly, '12 O'clock and all's well!'.

*******************

A/N: Well, that's the end, after all this time. It's taken me just over a year to finish this, my first true fandom venture, so I hope you liked it. I am considering writing a sequel entitled 'Twenty-four hours later' but we'll see. If you're interested in seeing a sequel, let me know, lol. 

This has been a long and eventful journey. I'd like to thank my betas at all stages of the process: Taylor, Liayh, Neko, Laura, Shiva and Heather. You guys are wonderful and I love you. Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially those who left thoughtful, insightful reviews and the ones who left 'eeeeew!!11 draco harry slash!!!!111 eeeeewwww!!!111' reviews, which really, truly, made my day.

Oh, and if anyone happens to be disappointed with the ending, I'd like to say that, much as I like steamy D/H action, this story was intended to cover twenty-four hours and there was no plausible way see to get Harry from homophobe to sex-pet in that time. Besides, is it truly realistic to believe that Draco and Harry would have their first kiss at midnight, fight for the next twelve hours and then go at it like rabbits twelve hours after that?

Anyway, since it's all done now, I would love to read some reviews telling me how you felt about characterisation, plot and my rather suspicious humour, especially if you didn't like an aspect. We all live but to learn and all that.

-Ellipsis Black, signing off.


End file.
